


The Coming Tide

by ladysorka



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Post-Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-31
Updated: 2012-08-31
Packaged: 2017-11-13 06:57:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/500737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladysorka/pseuds/ladysorka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The cultists have been moving further north.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Coming Tide

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt "act of god" in McShep Match 2012.

John pulled on the reins before he'd even consciously registered the scream. His horse obediently stopped and John looked around, trying to figure out where the scream had come from. Whoever it was, they weren't in his direct line of sight. Another scream rang out, followed by a man's voice yelling something John couldn't make out. It was coming from John's right.

"Damn." John grabbed the rifle from behind the cart's seat. He didn't have many bullets to spare, but he recognized that decaying building. There was an old burn scar behind it, from the giant funeral pyres after the Big Death. Most of them had grown over in the twenty years since, but you could still find them if you were looking for them, and John knew one group that did.

He jumped out of the cart at a run. The cult was crazy and ruthlessly violent. If you didn't immediately bow down and agree to worship their god, they wanted you dead. John's only chance was that the cult generally wanted 'heathens' to suffer. Their victim was probably still alive. 

John rounded the corner and brought the rifle up, taking in the scene with a glance. It was easy to tell who the cultist was, and John aimed for the boy in the cloak. He looked to be about 15, and John hesitated for a moment. The boy brought his crossbow up again and John took the shot. The boy fell to the ground, and John could hear him muttering the final prayers as he died. John closed his eyes for a moment. The boy had been there to kill himself to atone for some sin against his god, John had only sped up the process. It wasn't consolation, but it was the closest thing he was going to get.

The man the cultist had been aiming at dashed over and picked up the crossbow, pointing it at John's chest. He stood protectively over a woman who was collapsed on the ground. "Who the hell are you?"

John put the rifle down and his hands in the air. "Hey, easy. I'm one of the good guys." John nodded his head at the dead boy, not moving his hands. "He would've kept you alive for hours before he was done."

The man's aim didn't waver. "You know who he is."

John shrugged. "Not personally, but I know his religion."

The crossbow lowered. "His religion. What kind of idiot makes _this_ ," the man gestured around the burn scar, "his religion?"

John slowly walked towards the man, his arms still in the air. "You're from up north?"

"For some insane reason we thought it would be safer where people didn't die from exposure every winter."

John grimaced. "Yeah, you might want to re-think that. Why don't you me take a look at your friend there, make sure she's okay?"

The man's face blanched. He dropped the crossbow and turned around, kneeling on the ground. "Oh god, Jeannie. Jeannie, can you hear me?"

"He didn't hit my ears, Mer." Jeannie's face was pale, but her voice was strong. She was clutching her arm to her chest.

"Here, let me take a look at that." John cautiously knelt down.

Jeannie held her arm out. "So, who are you?"

"John Sheppard. I live around here." John gently pressed the skin around the wound. It looked like it was just a graze, but sometimes the cultists used poisons or abrasives on the tips of their weapons.

Jeannie sucked in a breath from the pain. "I'm Jeannie. This is my brother, Mere...."

"Rodney!" Rodney cut her off. "Rodney McKay. Is she going to be okay?"

Jeannie grinned at Rodney and hissed as John pressed a sore spot. "I'll be fine, Mer."

The wound looked a little inflamed, but at this early stage he couldn't tell anything from that. "Probably. I'd feel better if you let my house's healer take a look at it."

"How far away is this house?" Rodney asked.

"A few hours south of here."

Rodney and Jeannie exchanged a look. "It's not that we don't appreciate the help," Jeannie said, "but I don't think...."

John sighed. "I can't make you trust me, but you need someone to look at that arm. The cultists sometimes use poisons."

"Poisons!" Rodney looked faint. It wasn't a good look for him. Which was a shame, because otherwise he was a fairly attractive guy.

"Hey, only sometimes. Probably not this time." John spread his hands. "Probably."

Jeannie bit her lip. "Mer, I think we have to trust him."

Rodney's shoulders slumped and he nodded. "You're right. It's not you," he said, looking at John, "we haven't had very good luck with strangers."

John sucked in a breath. Rodney and Jeannie were wanderers, and he'd heard stories. "We don't keep slaves and we don't do bed trades."

Rodney nodded, looking unconvinced. "We'll see."

John knew that was the best he was going to get. "I've got a cart," he said, nodding towards the building. "I'd bring it around, but, well."

"I can stand," Jeannie said. Rodney grabbed her unwounded arm to help her up. She stood and wobbled, falling down again. "Or not. That's weird, I feel fine."

John stared at her. He could almost feel the blood rushing away from his face.

Rodney glanced over at him and his eyes widened. He looked down at Jeannie and back over to John. Rodney's mouth tightened. He searched around for the crossbow and handed it to Jeannie, who raised her eyebrows. "Wait here, we'll be right back." 

"Mer, what...?"

"Just wait, Jeannie." Rodney grabbed John's arm and dragged him around the building. "Tell me."

"It could just be shock."

"Don't give me that." Rodney crossed his arms and glared at John.

John sighed. "It reminds me of something, that's all."

"Reminds you of _what_?"

"Something that happened to a friend of mine. What happened to him is not going to happen to your sister if you just let me take her to our damn healer!" John closed eyes. Holland had been one of the first victims when the cultists started expanding further north. They'd thought he was fine, that it had just been a scratch. They thought he had just been tired and a little drunk. Then John had woken up next to a corpse.

"Right, yes. Doctor," Rodney said. "Not that that means anything anymore. Completely untrained idiots."

"She knows what she's doing." John walked over to the cart.

Rodney muttered something under his breath that John could make out and followed him, staring. "You actually have a horse."

John gave him a tired half-smile. "This is Steve."

"Steve. You named a horse Steve?"

"What's wrong with Steve?" John raised an eyebrow.

Rodney held up his hands, still staring. "Nothing. Nothing's wrong with Steve. It just doesn't seem very... horse-like."

John shrugged. "Steve's a simple horse." He started pulling the scrap metal and plastic he'd been collecting for the past few days out of the cart, setting it in a pile against the most intact wall of the building. They really needed those scraps, but Jeannie wasn't going to be able to sit on the bench. "Give me a hand here, will you?"

"What? Oh." Rodney took the other end of a steel beam, helping John lift it out of the cart and setting it off to the side. They made easy work of the rest of the scrap, and John dug out his sleeping bag, rolling it out on the cart floor while Rodney went back for his and Jeannie's things. John stashed the two battered backpacks and bedrolls Rodney handed him next to the wall. He blinked for a moment at the hand-carved walking sticks, but put those against the wall on the other side. There was only one thing left.

"Put me down!" Jeannie hit Rodney in the arm. "I can walk!"

"Yeah, remember what happened last time you tried that?" Rodney shook his head. "No."

John helped Rodney lift Jeannie into the cart, setting her down gently on the sleeping bag. Rodney sat down next to her.

John got into the cart seat. "Ready to go, kids?"

"Just go, already." Rodney's voice was tight.

John nodded and gave Steve the command.

***

"She's going to be fine," Carolyn said, patting Rodney on the arm. John resisted the urge to laugh at the way Rodney's whole body seemed to relax.

"Really?" Rodney asked.

Carolyn hesitated. "Well, she'll definitely live. It's possible she might lose some mobility in her arm."

"When you will you know for sure?" John asked.

"She lucked out, the dosage was fairly low. She'll mostly sleep for a few days, and when she's awake again she'll either have full use of her arm or she won't." Carolyn sighed. "We still have no idea what this poison actually is and I can't do anything for it with the few medicinal herbs we grow. We can't trust the old medications anymore."

Rodney nodded grimly. "What about her legs?"

Carolyn waved her hand. "Those will be fine. The initial numbing wears off quickly. It's her arm that's the issue. I'd like to keep her in the sickhouse for a few days though, just in case."

"Right," Rodney said. "Right."

Carolyn stood. "I need to get back. Elizabeth is looking after Jeannie, but while she's a lovely person, she is a terrible nurse."

"Elizabeth's here?" John asked. Elizabeth almost never left the library unless it was harvest season. Usually it was Sam who came down for news.

Carolyn shrugged. "She wants to talk to you. Something strange is going on in the city." She walked out the door.

Rodney moved to follow, but John grabbed his arm. "We need to talk," John said.

"We usually trade mechanical knowledge. Do you need something fixed? For everything you're doing for Jeannie, I could probably build you something."

"Look, Rodney, we would've helped you and your sister for nothing. If you want to do something in trade you can, but honestly we don't care." John sighed. "I need to talk to you about the cultists."

"The cultists." Rodney's mouth tightened.

John got up and unlocked a cabinet, pulling out one of the remaining bottles of his father's expensive Scotch. He poured them two fingers each, then locked it back in the cabinet.

"Here," John said, placing the glass in front of Rodney. "You're going to need it."

Rodney picked it up and took a sip. "This is real Scotch."

"If there's one thing you could say about my father, it's that his bar was well stocked."

Rodney gripped the glass tightly. "So, tell me about the assholes who tried to kill my sister."

"We don't actually know that much about them. They're from down south somewhere, and they've been spreading further north every year. From what we've heard from wanderers who escaped, they kill or convert everyone in their path." John swirled his glass, staring at the amber liquid.

"You have to know more than _that_."

John sighed. "They worship someone named Seth. They say that he heals the sick, that he can bring the dead back to life, and that his eyes shine with the light of the sun."

Rodney snorted. "Standard religious nonsense."

"They also say," John said, pressing on, "that he's over 60 years old."

Rodney stared. "That's impossible. No one over puberty survived the Big Death. There's barely anyone on the planet older than 34." He paused. "That we know of, anyway, but I remember when we still got the news. It was everywhere."

John nodded. "Even if some random guy turned out to be immune, he probably wouldn't start a death cult around himself."

"Death cult?"

"Apparently everyone in the cult kills themselves before they hit 20."

"Oh joy." Rodney drank the last of his Scotch. John watched him swallow.

"There's one more thing." John closed his eyes.

"Oh god, what."

"When they move north, they kill everyone who did convert that's outside the inner circle. Everyone. The wanderers who've gone south have come back telling stories of empty farms with crops still in the fields, children dead on the side of the road, things we haven't heard about since those first few years after the Big Death."

"Is it a plague?" Rodney asked. His hands were shaking.

John shook his head. "We think it might be a gas."

"A gas."

John nodded, saying nothing. They sat next to each other, staring out the cracked window. John had no idea how he was going to fight the cult. Rodney and Jeannie were wanderers, they could just leave, but John had his people and his land. They'd worked hard to turn this old mansion into a home, and he wasn't going to leave it without a fight.

John stood. "Come on, let's get settled for the night." He led the way up the stairs. "You're going to have to share with me. We don't have any other extra beds right now." Rodney opened his mouth. John held up a hand. "Carolyn is not going to let you sleep in the sickhouse."

"You'd better not have cold feet."

***

John woke up warm and content. He snuggled deeper into the blankets and closer to the man next to him. Maybe Holl would be in the mood to greet the day right. He let his arm fall over Holl's chest.

"Don't." Rodney's voice was hard.

John jerked his arm back, suddenly completely awake. "Crap. Look, I haven't shared a bed with anyone since... I'm sorry."

Rodney rolled over to look at him. "How long ago did she leave?"

"He died about a year ago."

"Oh. _Oh_. I'm, ah, I'm sorry." Rodney looked sincere, and not like he was about to run away in some sort of panic, so that was promising at least.

John shrugged.

"I, ah, apologize for my reaction as well. A lot of people think Jeannie and I are willing to trade things we're not. Idiots. Jeannie once broke a man's wrist when he tried that." Rodney smiled in recollection.

"How old was she?" John asked. "During the Big Death."

Rodney sat up and leaned against the headboard. "Almost four. I was eleven."

"Jesus." John stared at him. "And I thought looking after my nine year-old brother was bad."

"We survived," Rodney said, shortly. 

"Not many kids under six did." The first few years after the Big Death had almost been worse than the plague itself. John has a lot more nightmares about stumbling across dead toddlers than he does about the funeral pyres.

Rodney flushed. John tried not to stare at what it was doing to Rodney's chest. "It. She was all that mattered, then." He laughed, but there wasn't any humor in it. "I think a lot of it was to show my mother that we could. She insisted we'd be dead in a year. She even gave me suicide pills before she died, so that Jeannie could go without any pain." Rodney shook his head. "I had to do anything to show her she was wrong. Sometimes I wonder if that was her plan all along."

John's father had never liked him very much, that had been easy to see, but when he'd found out what was coming he'd done everything he could to prepare John and Dave for the world ahead. John could still remember his father saying "You're a Sheppard, son. You'll lead them all." His father had been a dick, but at least he'd trusted John would survive.

John reached out and squeezed Rodney's arm. "You did good."

Rodney looked at the hand on his arm and then up at John.

There was a knock at the door. "John?"

"Yeah, Elizabeth?" John didn't take his eyes off Rodney's.

"Come downstairs. We need to discuss something." She paused. "Bring the wanderer with you, please."

"Be there in a minute." John gave Rodney's arm another squeeze and got out of bed. He poured some water into a bowl and splashed his face and under his arms, shivering at the cold against his skin. He got out his straight razor and carefully got to work. Sometimes John wished he didn't look so terrible with a beard. He felt Rodney eyes on him, rinsed off the last of his lather, and turned around. "What?"

Rodney shook his head. "Nothing."

John shrugged and got dressed, carefully not watching as Rodney as did the same.

***

John wrapped his hands tightly around his tea. "Could you repeat that?"

Elizabet sighed. "The cult has stopped moving north. They've settled down in one of the old military warehouse districts. Sam went to do some reconnaissance, and some sort of giant metal ring was being guarded by the cultists, using some sort of weapon we've never seen before."

"Yeah, I got that," John said. "Go back to the part where Sam is missing."

Elizabeth closed her eyes. "We couldn't find anything about the ring in the library, so Sam went back to steal one of the weapons and didn't come back."

"You didn't go after her?" John tried to push down his anger. Elizabeth probably would've just gotten captured herself and John would've never known what happened to them, but that didn't mean she couldn't at least have looked.

Elizabeth looked at him. "I came here," she said calmly. "I was expecting to bring you back with me to go in and see if she's still alive. Rodney may be an unexpected bonus."

"Elizabeth," John started, "I don't think...."

"We need to find out why they're interested in old military tech, John."

Rodney sighed. "What are you asking me to do?"

"Look at a big metal ring in the city that happens to be surrounded by the people who tried to kill you yesterday," John said.

"Oh, sure. Why not? I haven't risked my life enough this week!"

"I wouldn't ask you to do it without a fair trade, of course." Elizabeth smiled. "We have access to an intact library, if that interests you."

"Research or recreational?" Rodney asked immediately.

"Both, actually."

"Science?"

Elizabeth looked amused. "That too."

Rodney grinned and rubbed his hands together. "When do we leave?" He paused and frowned. "Wait, no, I can't leave Jeannie."

"Your sister will be fine," John said. 

"You can't be sure of that." Rodney crossed his arms.

"Yes, I can." John resisted an urge to reach out and touch Rodney's shoulder.

Elizabeth nodded. "She'll be perfectly fine here, I promise you. Especially with Seth's followers congregating in the city."

Rodney glared at them both, but nodded. "Fine. It'll be on your heads if anything happens."

"So." John smiled. "Do you know how to ride a horse?"

"Please tell me you're kidding."

***

"I am never, ever doing that again"

"Aw, Rodney, Mary loved you." John fed Mary an apple from his bag. "And you looked good on her." He had, was the scary thing.

"My thighs will never be the same. How can you do that all the time?"

"You get used to it." John smirked and looked Rodney in the eyes. "Besides, I like to ride."

Rodney blinked at him and flushed, turning away.

"Where do we go from here, Elizabeth?" John asked. They'd tied up the horses away from the old warehouse district Elizabeth said the cultists were using. They didn't want to tip them off.

"A few miles that way." Elizabeth pointed to her left. She slung her rifle over her shoulder and set out down the cracked road. It was odd to see. John knew she had a rifle - having a weapon was basic safety these days - but he'd never actually seen her carry it.

John slung his own rifle over his shoulder. Rodney was still carrying the crossbow. John had offered him one of their few spare rifles but Rodney had refused, saying he was more comfortable with crossbows and didn't want to be stuck with a weapon he wasn't familiar with. John had to respect Rodney for that, even though he didn't think a crossbow was going to be much help.

They walked slowly down the quiet streets. The sun was high in the sky, and the collapsing buildings looked oddly beautiful. Trees and vines were growing on and around them, nature getting it's own back. Even the streets were being taken over, grass poking up tall in every crack. He wondered how long it would be before the city would be completely unrecognizable, and if he'd be alive to see it.

He spotted movement out of the corner of his eye and ducked into the nearest building, dragging Rodney and Elizabeth behind him. Rodney opened his mouth and John slapped his hand over it, shaking his head. John pointed out at the street. A parade of people marched around the corner, clad in the robes of the cultists. They were all smiling, but John thought their eyes looked dead. He didn't see Sam.

Rodney slapped his arm and John turned to glare at him. Rodney pointed frantically at the back of the crowd. John gaped. A man and a woman, clad in gold, were being carried in litters. He turned to Elizabeth and pointed at the woman, raising his eyebrows. She shook her head. They sat silently and watched as the crowd passed them.

"We should follow them," Elizabeth whispered.

Rodney moved his lips, and John sheepishly brought his hand down. "Sorry."

Rodney rolled his eyes, but gave him a half-smile. "I said, that would be insane. Look at those people!"

"Those people," Elizabeth said, "know where Sam is."

"I'm here to look at a metal ring, not go on a rescue mission!"

"It looks like they're headed in that direction anyway." John pointed at the stragglers. "We might as well follow them."

Rodney sighed and nodded. John stood and gave Rodney a hand up. Elizabeth cocked an eyebrow at him, and John smirked at her. She rolled her eyes.

They followed the stragglers, keeping at least a block behind them. The cultists didn't really seem to be at all aware of their surroundings, but it was better to be safe than sorry. After about a mile they stopped and John stared. There were hundreds of people standing in a crowd around an old military warehouse. It was more people than he'd seen in one place since the Big Death. They were all smiling, and all completely silent.

"Trying to find in Sam in this is going to be a nightmare," Elizabeth said quietly.

"...does she have short blonde hair and a very nice chest?" Rodney asked.

"Excuse me?" John turned to stare at Rodney. Rodney pointed at a stage that had been set up in front of the warehouse, where five men and a woman stood, all naked from the waist up. John squinted at the woman's face. Jesus. That was Sam. "Uh, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth's mouth was tight. "We have to get her down from there."

Rodney waved at the crowd of people. "How do you suggest we do that?"

"...I'm thinking," John said. He stared at the stage. "They have to be drugged."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Any other brilliant deductions, Sherlock?"

John opened his mouth to reply when a load, unnaturally deep and resonant voice rang out over the crowd. "I present Hathor, your queen." The man who had to be Seth stood on the platform. The woman clad in gold stood next to him.

The crowd knelt on the ground and bowed nearly in unison. John pulled Rodney and Elizabeth down behind a bush.

"Seth is life. Hathor is love," the crowd chanted.

"Today is a day of great joy," Seth said. "Today, we celebrate the birth of our children."

Hathor held something in the air and the crowd cheered. John squinted at it. "Is that a _snake_?"

"It doesn't look like any snake I've ever seen described," Elizabeth said.

Hathor walked up to the first half-naked man on the stage, smiling at him. She pressed a device into his stomach and held him as he writhed in pain. When she stood back, there was a large 'x' carved in the flesh and muscles of his stomach, which she slipped the snake-thing into. The crowd didn't react.

If John hadn't already been sitting he would've fallen down.

"Did I suddenly step into a B movie?" Rodney's voice was faint.

"These people you see before you have been chosen for a great blessing. You will respect them. You will hail your new Jaffa." Seth's voice rang out over the street. Hathor gave the second man a snake pouch, and the crowd cheered.

"I am not just going to sit and watch this." Elizabeth stood, bringing her rifle up and pulling the trigger before John could react. She stumbled with the recoil and the shot went high, hitting the wall above the stage.

"Have you ever shot that thing before?" John asked, scrambling for his own weapon as the crowd turned to face them, bringing up their strange weapons.

"Kneel before your God!" Seth called, his voice booming.

"How about no." Rodney brought the crossbow up and aimed straight at Seth. The arrow flew true, but at the last second it bounced off some sort of energy field.

"Jesus, we are in a B movie." John brought his rifle up and swung the butt end at a cultist that was too close to shoot. The cultist fell to the ground, unconscious. John stole his strange gun and looked at it. He shrugged and held onto it.

One of the other cultists raised his weapon and John dove to the ground. The shot went over John and hit the tree behind him.

"They have _ray guns_?" Rodney yelped. "Did I miss the UFO landing?"

"Stop standing there and shoot something!" John called. He glanced over at Elizabeth, who had mostly taken to using her rifle like a bat but otherwise seemed to be holding her own. He poked at the at the ray gun and held it the way the cultists were, aiming it at a woman running towards him. He fired. A blast of energy flew out of the weapon and she fell. He grinned down at the gun. This was so cool.

The crowd parted, and Hathor walked through it, hand in the air. She wore some sort of strange jewelry on her hand and John knew by the way was holding it that it had to be some kind of weapon. She pointed her hand at Rodney and John ran and pushed him out of the way. After that, all he knew was pain.

***

"John? John!" Rodney's voice was frantic. Something hit John's cheek. "Wake up! Come on, John, wake up."

"Rodney?" John tried to open his eyes and slammed them shut again. Light was painful. "What happened?"

"You got shot, you asshole." Rodney's hand was stroking John's head. It felt nice. "You pushed me out of the way and _got shot_."

"After that." John let himself relax into Rodney. His lap made a comfortable pillow.

"One of the ray guns hit me." Rodney's voice was sheepish. "It must've been set to stun."

"Set to stun?" John repeated. His head still felt groggy.

"Do you have a better explanation?"

John tried to shake his head and groaned.

"Don't do that!" Rodney held John's head still. "I think you have a concussion."

"Elizabeth?" John asked.

"She's not here."

"We need to go find Sam and Elizabeth." John opened his eyes and tried to sit up.

"Stop that!" Rodney pressed him back down, looking at him. "You're hurt."

"But," John started.

Rodney cut him off. "We're locked in this room anyway. We can't go anywhere. Just... stay still."

"We could break open the door," John said.

"With what, your head? That's broken enough already!" Rodney closed his eyes and sucked in a breath.

John reached up and awkwardly patted Rodney's cheek. "I'll be fine."

Rodney grimaced. "You might have internal bleeding or, or brain damage."

"I just have a really bad headache, Rodney." He was also kind of dizzy and nauseated, but Rodney didn't need to know that part.

Rodney looked down at him. "You're an idiot."

"Rodney, I."

"An idiot. A complete and total moron."

John glared up at him.

Rodney glared back and then abruptly bent down and pressed a kiss to John's forehead. "You are _not_ doing that again."

John reached up and brought Rodney's back down, bringing him into a kiss. The angle was extremely awkward, but John didn't care.

"I'm sorry, are we interrupting something?" Sam's voice was extremely amused.

John broke off the kiss and turned to stare at the doorway. Sam and Elizabeth were standing there, both holding a ray gun. Elizabeth was smirking at him.

"Yes," Rodney said, annoyed. Sam laughed.

"What? How?" John asked.

Elizabeth shrugged. "I got to Sam shortly before you were hit. One of the cultists accidentally hit her with their weapon, and the drug just... wore off."

"I think it was somehow disrupted by the electrical shock." Sam said. "Then we found me a shirt. I may never live this down."

John struggled to sit up. Rodney sighed and let him, but held onto his waist. "Seth and Hathor?" John asked.

Elizabeth's face grew grave. "After I found Sam and we came back to get the two of you, they and all their followers disappeared into the warehouse."

"Can't we just leave them there?" Rodney asked. "We got your half-naked friend back."

"Nice to meet you too." Sam smirked at him.

"Oh, uh, yes. Hello."

"Eventually they're going to come back out of the warehouse, Rodney, and we still need to find out what they want with old military tech." John sighed. "Especially now that we know they have something superior to it, because I don't remember the American Military having ray guns."

"About that," Sam said. "I think I have a plan."

***

"What the hell kind of plan is this?" Rodney stared.

"A good one." Sam glared at him.

"I think I agree with Rodney," John said faintly.

"Trust me. It's going to work." 

"You're just going to go in and hit people!" Rodney crossed his arms. "That is not going to work!"

"There's a little more to it than that," Sam said. Rodney kept protesting, but Sam ignored him and gave them each one of the ray guns and pointed at the warehouse door. John sighed and nodded, leaning against the wall. He wasn't going to be much help during this, and he knew it. He could barely keep his eyes open.

Sam slipped the gun onto her belt and knocked on the door. A man opened it that John recognized from the stage. He was still shirtless, and John stared at the cross on his stomach. Sam didn't even seem to notice it and quickly brought her leg up and kneed him in the balls, followed by quickly grabbing his head and slamming it against the door frame. The man collapsed onto the ground. Rodney whimpered.

John leaned over and whispered in his ear. "She taught me everything I know." Rodney whimpered again.

Sam ran through the door with Elizabeth on her heels. John and Rodney followed more slowly, Rodney holding onto John to make sure he didn't collapse. John leaned into him possible a little too much, holding up his ray gun with his free hand. They entered the warehouse and stopped, staring. Most of the cultists were on the ground, already either dead or unconscious. Seth was on his knees in front of Hathor, staring up at the glowing weapon in her hand.

Hathor looked up as they entered but ignored them, looking back down at Seth. "You are a coward and a traitor, Setesh," she said in her weird, deep voice. "You are unworthy of a queen. You tried to kill my husband. You were deceived by Us and Our search for the Chappa'ai, and were easily used. We are displeased."

"My queen," Seth choked out.

"You will be a great gift for my husband. We will celebrate Our return with your execution." She pushed with her hand and energy flew out of the jewel in her hand. Seth collapsed. Hathor stood, turning to the giant metal ring in the center of the room. One of the snake-pouch men connected something to the ring via wires and began to manually turn the center wheel. A red light came on, and they stopped and began to turn it again.

"...she has a working generator," Rodney said. He was practically drooling.

"I _know_." Sam was staring at it with longing. Rodney turned to her and grinned. Sam grinned back. John tightly squeezed Rodney's shoulder with the arm he still had draped over it.

Rodney rolled his eyes at him and pulled John tighter against his side. "Idiot," he muttered.

John watched as five more red lights lit up on the ring. The seventh light came on and a giant blue wave of water splashed out, then collapsed into the ring. "...am I hallucinating?"

"I don't think so." Elizabeth's voice was faint.

"Oh my god," Sam said. "It's. It's."

"It's beautiful." Rodney sighed. John looked at him in alarm.

The snake-pouch man who'd been turning the ring picked up other one that Sam had knocked out and walked through the shimmering blue wall, disappearing. Rodney made a noise that John couldn't interpret.

Hathor turned to look at them. John froze. "You may join Us. You have shown strength and courage and would be welcome in Our service."

"I think we'd rather stay here." John braced himself for another hit from her hand weapon, but it didn't come.

Hathor inclined her head. "We may return after We have told Ra that the Tau'ri are once again open to service. You will join Us then." She threw Seth into the ring and stepped through, and the shimmering wall vanished.

John stopped trying to stand and collapsed onto the ground. "What just happened?"

"...did she just say _Ra_?" Elizabeth asked.

***

John opened his eyes to the ceiling of his bedroom. The moon was high on the wall and he frowned, trying to remember how he'd gotten there.

"Ah, you're awake." Rodney was sitting at John's old desk, writing by candlelight. "Before you ask, you collapsed because of your _concussion_."

John rubbed his face. "How long?"

"You've been in and out for a few days. You missed the depressing reenactment of out childhoods." John stared at him in incomprehension. Rodney sighed. "The cultists were dead, John, killed by whatever Seth and Hathor had been using all along. We built a new funeral pyre in one of the old burns."

"What was that thing?"

"Hathor called it the Chappa'ai. Sam and I think it forms a wormhole between two distant places in the universe." Rodney made two little rings with his hands and brought them together. "It folds space to make them just a step away from each other. At least, that's our current theory. It's not like either of us was ever actually trained in astrophysics, even if I am a genius."

John pushed himself up on his elbow. "Wait, are you saying they Seth and Hathor were aliens?"

Rodney grinned at him. "Yes."

"Wow that's... really incredibly cool." John paused. "Also terrifying."

Rodney nodded. "Sam, Jeannie, and I are working on some way to try and guard it, but right now it looks like 'lots of people standing around it with ray guns' is all we have."

"So." John looked out the window, away from Rodney. "You're staying then?"

"What? Yes, of course. Jeannie still needs Carolyn's help, and the technology of the Chappa'ai is just... it's amazing."

"Right," John said, still not looking at Rodney.

"Oh, for crying out loud." Rodney sighed. The light in the room dimmed as he blew out the candle and he walked over to the bed. "Move over."

"What?"

Rodney leaned down and kissed him. John brought his hand up and curled it in Rodney's hair, pulling back only when he need to breathe.

Rodney smiled at him. "Move. Over." John moved to the side of the bed and Rodney curled up beside him him. He reached over and pulled John's arm over his body, resting John's hand against his chest. "Happy now?"

John kissed the back of Rodney's neck. He had no idea what was going to happen now, but he only had one answer for that. "Yeah, I am."


End file.
